


The Seduction of Severus Snape

by aisling



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Complete, Dating, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-04
Updated: 2006-08-04
Packaged: 2017-11-01 03:16:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 10,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/351336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aisling/pseuds/aisling





	1. The First Day

The day started off pretty normally. Well normally for me at least. I woke up with a stinking headache, took a potion otherwise I would not be able to face the students with my usual good mood and headed up to the Great Hall for breakfast where I skilfully avoided the menace that is Harry Potter and poured myself a cup of my favourite coffee.

Then my world fell apart.

My eyes narrowed as I saw the black hawk heading my way. 

I did not receive mail. 

Fact.

I was even more amazed when I saw that it was a present. Wrapped in emerald green with a pretty silver ribbon. I immediately flicked my wrist, my ebony wand slipped easily into my palm. I racked my brain for a moment before sneering slightly and casting spell after spell at the offensive little box. Surprised at the severe lack of any kind of malicious magic I put my wand back into its holster and slowly pulled the silver ribbon. The green paper quickly followed and I was left a black velvet box,

The lid opened slowly, I was ready to duck at the slightest movement. I hesitated slightly then reached and lifted the object placed carefully in tissue paper.

A Unicorn Horn.

\--

A Prank.

It must be a prank, why else would anyone send a gift to me? But a unicorn horn? It was rather extravagant for a a prank.

I carefully placed it in my personal store cupboard before heading up to the Headmasters office. He would help.

\--

Bastard.

He laughed at me, told me to get a grip and stop expecting a new Dark Lord at any moment. To bask in the attention.  
I always knew he was unhinged.

\--

My classes went scarily well. Montgomery failed to blow-up a cauldron, although he did melt one. The Slytherins and Gryffindors sat quitely through the lesson, the hatred between the two seemingly relaxed once The Boy Who Lived came to Hogwarts. His annoying habit of making friends with the whole world seemed to have finally evolved to include every member of Slytherin House except for the late Tom Riddle and myself.

After the classes were done for the day I retired back to my rooms, a glass of good whiskey and a book absorbed my attention, except for when my eyes drifted towards the green box on my desk.


	2. The Second Day

The next day I work up in a foul mood, the blasted gift had kept me awake half the night, pondering who, when, how and most importantly, why! I snarled all the way to the Great Hall. Deducting points as I went, especially from any Red and Gold striped students.

I sat back after breakfast, relieved when the hawk hadn’t made an appearance. Then I saw the black blur as it flew through a window and I visibly tensed . I grimaced at my colleagues and tried to ignore the speculative looks sent my way, I was not impressed to say the least.

Flying directly to me it released the green and silver parcel carefully onto the table. Once again I looked to see if the parcel was booby-trapped. Getting a negative answer I carefully lifted the box, not daring a levitation spell in case the contents were adversely affected, and stalked through the halls to my rooms.  
Biting down the excitement as I opened the box, my eyes widening slightly at a strange muggle box labelled “Lock & Lock” and carefully pulled the lid back. I gasped in shock.

Staring at me were two Basilisk eyes.

\--

Who would send me baslisk eyes? Add that to who would send me a unicorn horn and I was royally annoyed.


	3. The Third Day

The following day brought a slight change to the new ritual. The black hawk dropped a bouquet of red flame roses onto my lap. I scowled at the sniggering children, ignored my shocked colleagues and avoided the twinkling headmaster.

I wasn’t quick enough to avoid Potter.

“Nice flowers Severus.” The boy commented, throwing me a lopsided smile.

“Hmm” I wittily retorted, resorting to my old stand by: The Death Glare™ “What do you want Potter?”

“I wondered if you fancied a night cap this evening.” Harry smiled winsomely at me.

”No.” I snarled back, infuriating brat.


	4. The Fourth Day

The black hawk appeared again at breakfast, its aim slightly off, the parcel landed directly in my lap causing a disgruntled “oof” to be uttered. I looked up and caught a concerned look cross Potters face before it was replaced with a blank expression.

“Severus?” he asked curiously.

I ignored him, turning the silver and green parcel, examining it minutely for any hexes. Standing suddenly I grabbed my gift and departed for my quarters once again. The excitement rising as I wondered what this next gift could be.

I was not a happy man. Why would anyone send me a gift I couldn’t understand? I, of course, had tried every translation spell I could find on the tome, all failed. After hours of research and attempts I finally had to admit defeat, hoping the next day would enlighten me.


	5. The Fifth Day

I swore vehemently as I looked at my gifts. The unicorn horn alone was a year pay, the basilisk eyes were priceless. The flame roses were so incredibly rare they were only grown in private greenhouses and rarely sold. I needed to know who was sending such items.

I headed to breakfast, half-excited over the possibilities of my next gift. I kept a keen eye out, waiting for the black hawk to appear. But to no avail. Neither the hawk nor any other bird appeared that morning. Slightly dejected I pushed aside the remains of my breakfast and headed for the side exit, my mood darkening. A slight touch to my elbow had me spinning around quickly, wand in hand before I swore faintly and scowled into the green eyes of Professor Potter. The boy silently handed over an envelope.

_Severus,_

_Today I procured you the one thing I know you would never request. As he is the only known parseltongue I have asked him to translate the book that I sent earlier. Don’t treat him too harshly, after all this is a gift for you._

_Yours._

I snorted. Well the writer had that right, I would never have asked Potter for his help. After all, the boy had been at the castle for 10 years, ever since the defeat of the dark lord and I had barely spoken to the brat.

”Can I collect the book this evening? I can give you updates on what I have translated as I go.”

I scowled at him. “I would rather not leave such an item in your questionable care. You will come to my quarters and work there."

\--

Potter arrived later that evening. He had knocked on the door and waited patiently for the me to admit . He smiled a greeting and made his way to the sofa in front of the fire, taking a place as if he belonged there.

“Have you got the book?” he asked calmly.

I just handed it over, not wanting to waste my time with the impetuous fool. Making my way back to my desk I began to mark the essays I had collected earlier, ignoring him I was surprised when he began hissing quietly.

”Can’t you be quiet?” I snapped, irritated by his presence in my sanctuary. The blasted boy just looked up at me in concern.

“There was a reason why I requested the book. I am not a natural parselmouth so I have to do this the hard way.”

”Cant you use a silencing spell or something then?” I asked, desperately

“Afraid not. Do you want me to work in a different room?”

“It doesn’t matter, just make it quick.” I snapped, turning back to my grading. Eventually the gentle hissing began to soothe my irritated nerves. In all my years of serving the dark lord I could not remember the language of the snakes sounding so sensual and smoothing. I mentally shook myself, refusing to fall under the spell the golden boy had successfully cast on the rest of the wizarding world.

The hours ticked by, much faster then I had expected and I was almost sorry to hear the end of the gentle hissing. I stretched, trying to ease the ache in my back as I stood to escort Potter from my rooms. A look of concern flashed across his features before he assumed his normal idiotic look.

”See you tomorrow Severus.” He bid me cheerfully, whistling as he walked up the corridor. I turned back to my rooms, ignoring the sudden coldness and headed for bed, wondering what fresh hells my new admirer would have me suffer tomorrow.


	6. The Sixth Day

Making my way to the Head Table for breakfast I steadfastly ignored the sunny hello from Potter, frowning slightly when he sat next to me. No one ever voluntarily sat next to me, I am quite well aware that the punishment for a late arrival to breakfast was my company. Still ignoring the boy I made short work of my meal and looked eagerly at the arriving owls. This time a snowy white owl swept to me, dropping a plainly wrapped parcel in my lap. Once again checking the hexes and curses I carried it to my quarters, I would have opened it at the table but the unpredictable nature of the gifts made me wary. I doubt that the student body would have appreciated the basilisk eyes or the unicorn horn.

I placed the parcel carefully on my desk, unwrapping the brown paper and carefully lifted out the items inside. A small leather chair, thrown for a moment I realised that the item had been shrunk, I placed it in a suitable location and cast the reversal charm. A black leather chair appeared. With deep cushioning and temperature charms it was the sort of chair I had always wanted, comfortable yet imposing. This ‘admirer’ of mine somehow knew me well, perhaps too well. I had not complained of my back pain to anyone, knowing it would result in several trips to the infirmary and little or no cure.

I gingerly sat in the chair, half expecting it to disappear or some other childish behaviour to appear. However all it did was remain, I sunk into its padded goodness, the leather comfortable against my body. I leaned back, and the chair tipped backwards. Startled I shot up from the chair, inspecting every inch I found that it reclined backwards and spun around. Wondering the madness behind this behaviour I quickly caught on, it was a muggle chair. Enhanced with charms for comfort. I again sat in the chair, wondering if I should move it to my office or keep it in my quarters. I relaxed, allowing the chair to adapt to me, supporting me as I twisted this way and that, learning the chairs movements and I sighed in appreciation.

I was beginning to like my admirer.

\--

He followed me down from dinner tonight, once again making himself at home in my rooms, lying back on the sofa, shoes kicked off and his robes thrown over a chair. He had ignored my scowl and had ordered some fire whiskey from one of the house-elves, carefully placing one next to me while I graded, soon the sibilant whispers began to encroach on my subconscious, the gentle hissing caressing my tired soul. I scowled to myself. Potter was not a desirable commodity, hissing or otherwise. And I scrawled harshly across the paper I was marking. I soon found myself settling into a warm haze, the whiskey and the quiet sounds coming from Potter making my rooms feel more homely and warm then they had ever done before.

Eventually the clocked ticked to 11pm and the boy began to gather his belongings together, leaving my living room a disorganised mess. I wearily got to my feet, pottering around the room as I tidied up after my messy companion. Placing the glass on the kitchen counter, the spare parchment, quill and ink back on my desk. His robes in the wardrobe. I froze suddenly. What was I thinking? Had I become used to his presence so quickly that my instinct was to place his belongings around my rooms? I frowned at the though, furious with myself as I began collecting the items back together in a box. Robes, quill, ink, parchment. Placing it near the door I intended on delivering it back to the boy tomorrow when I realised that he would probably just leave it here again tomorrow and I reluctantly placed the stationary on the small table near the sofa and the robes on a hook near the door.


	7. The Seventh Day

By now the entire faculty of Hogwarts eagerly awaited my morning delivery, I would have given them a Look, but my own excitement was only just containable. This time the black hawk was absent, instead a brown owl dropped a wrapped book into my hands, I left the table immediately, heading for my office to unwrap the gift in private.

It was a journal.

I opened the journal curiously, wondering why anyone would send me such a gift when writing appeared in a firm, even, vaguely familiar hand.

_Severus,_

_In an attempt to get to know you better I have gifted you with one half of a pair of communication journals. As I am sure you are aware when one writes in their journal it will appear in the other. Please ask me anything you want. The only thing I will not tell you is my name. I am not ready to be discovered yet._

_Perhaps never._

_Yours._

I snarled at the book and threw it across the room. Why go to all this trouble if they were not going to tell me who they are? Feeling slightly foolish I picked the book back up, grabbed a quill and quickly wrote in the book.

What are your intentions?

 _My intentions?_ The reply came back quickly _My intentions are nothing more then to get to know you better Severus. I have observed you from a far and have always yearned to know you better. The only thing more off putting then the scowl and the black robes is your absolute refusal to see past your own preconceptions. This way the only thing you can perceive is what I tell you._

An interesting answer, one almost worthy of a Slytherin, although a bit too forthright. I closed the book, heading towards my office, not realising I had brought the book with me.

\--

He arrived again this evening. Once again throwing his robe across a chair, revealing black leather trousers, an emerald green silk shirt and black leather boots. Dressing like that at a school should not be allowed. I must remember to discuss it with Albus, after all, anyone could be looking at the boy. I frown at him as he again toed his boots off, making himself at home in my rooms. I ignored the fact that his very presence helped lift the stifling loneliness I had been feeling since the end of the war. Although war councils with the Order of the Phoenix and Death Eater rivals were not my idea of a social life, I was honest enough to admit it had since dwindled to the annual Potions Conferences and my monthly chats with Albus.

I looked up suddenly as a tray appeared next to my elbow, a plate of chocolate cake and a glass of red wine. I looked up into deep green eyes. Which twinkled. I frowned at the boy, then ate the chocolate cake. The eyes twinkled even more.

I looked up from my sweet to see him sat on the couch, his tongue darting out to lick the chocolate from his lips and I almost moaned in appreciation. He dipped his finger in the chocolate icing, swirling it until he had collected a large dollop which he then proceeded to lick off. I closed my eyes at the sight, or at least I tried to. How could one person make eating such an innocent cake so decadent? I wondered in the depths of my soul. I shuddered as his lips parted and he licked his lips again. Standing suddenly I walked to the bathroom, desperate to get the haunting image out of my mind.

In the bathroom I stared at the mirror. The man looking back at me had a sparkle in his eye that has been missing for nigh on thirty years, I carefully examined my features, the nose that had been broken many years ago and I had avoided having healed correctly. The greasy hair that needed a cut, the pale, pale skin that rarely saw the sun. and I finally realised something the rest of the world had been aware of for ten years;

Voldemort was dead.


	8. The Eighth Day

I missed breakfast this morning, I had entrusted myself to Madam Pomfreys maternal care. I had requested a resetting of my nose. The woman must have sensed a weakness in me, before I knew it she had me tucked up in bed while she undertook a full medical. I would never admit it but the spells and potions she diagnosed did make me feel much better. And the nose was fixed.

When I arrived in class that morning I found a parcel carefully placed on my desk. The students were quietly staring at it, waiting to see what fresh humiliation would be placed upon their dreaded teacher. I set them a simple potion and retired to my office to open the box.

Inside was a small letter and a vial of silver liquid. Hardly daring to breath I carefully stored the vial of what I suspected was unicorns blood and opened the note.

_Dear Severus,_

_You haven't written in your journal. Is there a problem? I hope you can find a use for the unicorn blood I have sent, it was freely given._

_Yours._

Freely given unicorn blood? This was even rarer then the other ingredients my admirer had sent me. I was beginning to become desperate to know who the mystery person was. Promising myself to write in the journal later that day I headed off to supervise the class.

\--

Once again he followed me down from Great Hall. Taking his customary place near the fire he continued with his work. I sat in my chair and began the preparation for the classes tomorrow when he interrupted me.

"Do you ever miss the old days? Not the death obviously but the excitement?"

I scowled at him. "What nonsense are you talking?"

"The feeling that you were doing something to help preserve the world. Doesn’t it feel a little… flat now?" he looked at me, those eerie green eyes bearing into my soul. I shuddered slightly as I realised what they reminded me of.

"Not really. Somehow I find it much more preferable to know that I wont be suffering from cruciatus tonight." Although the brat did have a point. Life was strangely empty now.

"I did live through that you know. Just because I wasn’t present in the room, doesn’t mean I wasn't there. In fact I would imagine I felt more of the pain of that curse then you ever did."

"You don’t know what your talking about." I snarled at him.

He just shook his head at me sadly. "Did you never wonder why I no longer fly?"

I paused for a moment, to be honest I had noticed that he had abruptly quit the Quidditch team in his seventh year but I was too pleased that the Slytherins stood a chance to enquirer further. "Why?

"My nerves are shot. I can't feel to that degree any longer. Too much cruciatus." he turned away from me, back to his work. His body language plainly telling me he didn’t want to discuss it any longer. It didn’t stop me thinking about it thought. To be honest I had never really considered what the war had done to the once bright and mischievous boy. I was just pleased at the time that he had quietened down. Now I wondered if there was more he wasn’t telling anyone.

\--

Why are you sending me these ingredients?

_Because I know that you will appreciate them._

What about the book?

_I figured that as it was in parsel-tongue it was probably something written by Salazar Slytherin, be it potions or something else I thought you would appreciate it._

Who are you?

_The last person you would ever expect. How is teaching going?_

The same as usual, the dunderheads don’t listen to a word I say and are completely useless with the potions.

_Perhaps that is because they don’t understand. Tell me, who has the most trouble?_

Gryffindors and muggle-borns, why?

_And who is the best?_

Slytherins.

_And do you give extra tuition to the Slytherins? Do you give them a summary of what you will be covering? Do they visit you after class? Severus, the fault lies with you. It is not that you are a bad teacher, but you neglect three quarters of your students. You need to stop giving them so many essays and set them reading. If they understood why monkshead and rosemary shouldn’t mix perhaps they wouldn’t mix it. You also need to start teaching them containment spells._

Containment spells? Why do they need them?

_Because your wonderful slytherins are very fond of throwing extra ingredients into any cauldron they like._

I paused for a moment at this point, was it true? Did I really neglect so many of my students? Did my favouritism of the Slytherins really go to such an extent that my other students were in jeopardy? I put the journal away as I thought on the subject. Truth be told I didn’t teach them to use containment spells because they were very draining. Perhaps it was time to start.


	9. The Ninth Day

I looked at myself in the mirror. Fixing my nose had made a small difference but the majority of my sudden image change came from the non-potion soaked hair tied neatly at the back of my head. I had become so used to the smelling strands hanging limply in my face that this simple change made me feel like a new man. My nose was much more noticeable and I was glad I had taken the time to get it fixed. My skin was also slightly healthier looking thanks to the potions Poppy had given me. Albus had been purchasing me new clothes for years, trying to get me to abandon my stiff black robes. Finally I felt ready to do so. I had donned a pair of tailored black trousers and a white silk shirt, I smoothed down the open black robes that I had decided to wear - after all, in for a knut, in for a sickle.

I took a deep breath before I walked into the Great Hall…

I have to admit it, I caused a stir. I could see the shocked and admiring glances the students were giving me and it felt very satisfying. Then I heard one of the Gryffindors.

"Ding Dong, the greasy bat is dead."

I had to laugh. In fact I didn’t stop laughing until I sat down and saw the admiring look a pair of emerald green eyes gave me.

Funny, I just realised he is the only person I know who could locate a basilisk...

\--

There was no parcel today, but to be honest I barely noticed. Between the admiring looks Potter was giving me, the sudden conversation I was enveloped in and the freedom the lack of oppressive black robes surrounded me in I can honestly say I had never had a better day. That night Potter again came to my rooms. He told me, somehow reluctantly, that there wasn’t much translating left to do, that he would probably be finished within another day or two. I ignored the brief pang the thought of my once again empty quarters gave me. Instead contemplating if the brat would consent to a game of wizards chess instead.

I asked.

He accepted.


	10. The Tenth Day

Green. That’s all I can see. Green. Blasted Gryffindor.

Maybe I should elaborate. The day started off reasonably enough. I woke up, got dressed, ate breakfast, received a gift of a book of flavoured teas from the black hawk - to be honest I wasn’t impressed. So far a bit of imagination had been shown, but the whole world knows I like tea - then he had struck. I suppose you could take it innocently, but I have long come to the conclusion that innocence and Harry bloody Potter are like oxymorons - in theory possible but in practice highly doubtful.

After I had thrown the tea in a drawer for later I had begun to think on the identity of my mysterious admirer. All I knew about them was that they had money. And plenty of it. That they were male was a given, it had long been known in the wizarding world that I was a touch of a misogynist. Well maybe slightly more then a touch.

Okay, fine. I can accept women are not inferior creatures, some are actually quite interesting. However the one and only time I have tried to be romantically involved with a woman resulted in two red faces, a very embarrassing memory and a quick obligate.

Where was I? Oh yes, so I knew he was male, I also knew he had access to some barely legal potions ingredients, like basilisk parts, he also had an amazing amount of gall to think he could romance me.

I'm almost certain it’s Harry Potter.

Which brings me to the next problem. Walking up to the hall I was knocked into the wall by the blasted boy, he flashed me an apologetic smile and began to berate the two students who had (unbeknownst to me) been dueling in the corridor. Once the boys had gone he turned and checked if I was okay, his deep green eyes boring into my soul as if they could discover all my secrets. They haunt me still, the emerald eyes shining with the repressed power he holds.

Blasted boy.


	11. One Week Later

This week has been surprisingly fulfilling. Potter has shown a side of himself that I was seriously doubting existed. We have spent almost every night together, we played chess, discussed politics and the news, we gossiped and laughed at the people we knew. All in all I was strangely content with the status quo. I had a friend.

Then he had to change it.

Moronic Incompetent Ignoramus that he is.

He took me on a date - that’s right, you heard me correctly, I, Severus Snape, hated Potions Master and Former Death Eater went on a date. I had woken up in a bad mood. I had been using the journal to chat to my _mysterious_ admirer and I was growing concerned, when with me in person Har-Potter could almost pass for a human. However the drivel that he spouted in the journal almost made me think I was talking to two different people. Anyway, I had walked up to the Great Hall for breakfast, randomly deducting points from students to cheer myself up when I saw him. He was giving my smile to that insufferable git, Draco Malfoy. I scowled over at them, furious that the - the ferret was intruding on my property. I glared at Malfoy for good measure, the prat had turned his back on his father during the last few months of the war - some parasites always survive I suppose - and had managed to ingratiate himself with the Golden Boy. I saw Malfoy smirk at me, his eyes wandering across my person and I turned the glare up to full power. The dratted child had been attempting to seduce me since he was student, even I, in the depths of a sexual wasteland had had slightly more taste then to sleep with the tart. I stormed up to the teachers table, planning away to remove an excess of points from Gryffindor to brighten my day and annoy Potter. However, as always, speak of the devil and He shall appear...

"Potter" I had snarled at him as he made to sit down. He flinched momentarily, no longer used to the venom in my tone, before smiling brighter and taking the seat beside me that he had claimed over the past few days.

"Severus." He smiled sweetly at me, the saccharine two-faced twit. "Sorry I couldn't make it last night. I was with Remus," his voice dropped to a whisper "his furry little problem."

I scowled at him as my mind raced. it was a full moon last night, which means Harry and Remus would have been in canine form, how would he have been able to write to me?

"Are you free tonight?" he asked, his hand touching mine in a seemingly innocent gesture.

"Why?" I snarled again. What was going on? is it possible it wasn't Potter who had sent me the gifts?

"I thought it might be pleasant to go for a few drinks." he smiled at me again. I wish he would stop it, I almost smiled back that time.

"I suppose if I do not accompany you, you will spend the evening in some immature uncultured manner?" I asked snidely.

He just nodded "Probably read 'Quidditch Through The Ages' or visit Ron and Hermione"

"Then I suppose it is my task to ensure you do not ruin the education in culture I am trying to hammer into your insipid personality. I'll meet you in the entrance hall after dinner then." he smiled again, before turning his attention to his lunch. I growled inwardly. Can the boy not take an insult any longer? Is it possible I am loosing my touch? And who could it have been if it wasn't Potter?

\--

I walked up the stairs from the dungeons, I could see him leaning casually against the wall. well, I say casually but I could tell the difference, I had spent many years observing the natural disaster that was Harry James Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. little tell tale signs told me he was nervous, the way he ran his fingers through his hair, the way he straightened his robe three times in a minute. he was almost adorable in this state. and I will kill you if you even dream of telling anyone I thought that.

"Potter" I greeted him, damn boy just rolled his eyes at my insistence on calling him by his surname. I didn't trust myself to call him Harry.

"Severus. Are you ready?" He asked, soft voice caressing me gently. I nodded and turned towards the doors, knowing he would quickly catch me up.

"Where are we going?" I enquired, curious if the Golden Boy would be seen with me in public.

"Well, I kind of have something planned." he hesitated slightly "I will apparate us there if you are ready."

Without noticing it we had reached the edge of the wards. I nodded my consent and waited for the sickening sensation that accompanied a dual apparition. it never came.

"When you are ready," I instructed him, my eyes still tightly closed. I heard a snigger.

"You can open you eyes you know." Cautiously I opened them, we had already arrived in a dark alley, I scowled darkly at the boy and wondering how he had managed it, I began to storm towards the alleys entrance.

Then I stopped. "What have you done to my clothes?" I enquired smoothly. my robes were gone and I was now dressed in black jeans and a white cashmere jumper.

"Well, you can hardly dress in robes if we are going to a muggle pub can you?" he asked ever so reasonably. "Well you could, but think about what people would be saying about you."

"As I didn't know we were going to a muggle establishment I would not have known to change would I Mr. Potter." I told him acidly. he flinched. Good.

"Well, we aren't actually going to a muggle place, not at first anyway. I have tickets for an exhibition and lecture I thought you would enjoy." He looked at me, his nervousness once again in full force. I just shrugged, knowing that the torture had only just begun and I could always build up to a crescendo of insults, that was always much more fun.

Potter lead the way to a building that appeared to be a museum of some sort. He was chattering away as we walked and I began to tune in, knowing he would know if i wasn't listening.

"...and I saw an advertisement and just knew you would enjoy it."

"Enjoy what?" I almost barked.

"Its an exhibition on muggle science, and a lecture on chemicals and something. I didn't really understand but Hermione explained its about what muggles call Alternative Therapy, or complementary or something. Anyway, its about using natural ingredients with chemicals. Hermione said that it should be fascinating."  
I scowled at the thought of the bushy haired Gryffindor. although the subject matter did sound interesting. I had been trying to expand my knowledge in muggle sciences since the war had ended, hoping that something would help me with my experiments.

\--

She had been right, the exhibition and lecture had been fascinating, and amazingly enough the boy wonder had kept quiet all the way through, only speaking to ask intelligent conversations or to ask me to clarify a point for him. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. However its what happened next that astounded me.

We had arrived back at my rooms, for some unknown reason he had insisted on walking to my doors, as if I hadn't been following the route long before he learnt to walk at all. We stopped outside, me giving him my best glare, making it clear he wasn’t welcome inside, he didn’t seem to notice however, he appeared to be having an internal debate as he watched me carefully. Then an interesting look crossed his face, one I had seen many times before when he was facing the Dark Lord, almost as if he was seizing his courage and then the most amazing thing happened.

He kissed me.

\--  
Did I mention that? He kissed me. He. Kissed. Me!

Oh my god, oh my god. It was fucking fantastic!

Ahem.

Well. Yes. Harry Potter Kissed Severus Snape. Its almost a headline isn't it. I supposed your all wondering how I coped with it? I was polite, firm and chaste. Bollocks. I pushed him against that wall and snogged the life out of him and it was brilliant. He shivered as I touched him and I felt like I was on fire as his hands trailed up my body. It was heaven and hell, it was everything I had ever hoped a kiss would be.

Then he stopped, thanked me for a wonderful evening and said he would see me tomorrow.

What did I do wrong! Did my breath smell bad? Was it too moist, not moist enough, was my hair greasy? What happened? I wanted to drag him into my rooms, throw him onto the bed and convince the irritating, annoying exasperating, delicious, gorgeous, sexy little twit that I was a Master in more then Potions.

Perhaps moaning Potter put him off?

Maybe I should call him Harry?

How Dare He Refuse ME!

He will pay, in many, many ways. Starting with breakfast, maybe lunch, then some dinner. Perhaps drinks.

After all. He did say he would like to do it again sometime.


	12. The Day After the Night Before

I woke up, plotted some minor revenge and headed up to breakfast, all in all a normal day. Except the memory of that searing kiss…

Breakfast was... pleasant. He sat next to me, made pleasant, intelligent conversation. Then he wished me a pleasant day and wandered off to his classes.  
I hate pleasant. Once I craved for an average day, for pleasant company, pleasant conversation. Now I desire passion, hot, searing kisses, a firm, taut body, unruly black hair and flashing green eyes. I scowled after him of course. I'm not that far gone.

And yet all my mind thinks of are those few heavenly minutes last night when he was in my arms and I felt as if I could conquer the world.

\--

I floated through most of the lessons that day, my mind constantly on the moment our lips met and my overwhelming need to recreate that moment.  
When I got back to my rooms after lunch I picked up the journal, wondering if he would have left a message, anything to explain his behaviour.

_I do not believe we should contact each other any longer Severus._

What was going on? I felt like I had been kicked in the gut, my heart ripped out and stomped on. I knew the Kiss had been sudden, but I could have sworn he was as affected as I.

Why do you no longer wish to talk with me? I wrote quickly, I had thought Harry and I were getting along so well. Why did he now want to end this strange relationship we had developed, that he had begun.

_You are not the person I thought you were. I have watched you change and I do not find this new "Severus" as attractive as I did before. I really do wish you much happiness…_

I didn't wait to read anymore. I shut the book and stalked over to the brandy bottle. What was going on? Although Harry had been a touch distant through the day he had not acted as though he wanted our liaison to end.

If there is one thing I dislike it is to be confused. And I was more bewildered then I had ever been in my entire life.

\--

Why is he smiling at me if he doesn't want to continue? He's coming to sit next to me... what's going on, he's acting like last night never happened. Potter pulled the chair out next to me, flashed me a big smile and then leaned over so he could talk quietly.

"I am sorry about the way I acted when we got back the last night, you just made me really nervous. I hadn't expected you to be so, well so passionate."

I just glared at him,

"Mr. Potter are you insinuating that I am cold?" I snarled at him, my dark eyes flashing icily at him. I saw him gulp nervously and allowed myself a small flash of pride. I still had it.

"Not really Severus. I should have realised that you would be intense about everything you do. I just, I hadn't planned on kissing you, it just happened and it felt so right, so good. Then you called me Potter and all I could think about was what you were thinking about." he broke off, having successfully confused himself.

"Hmmm" was my witty retort as my mind raced. He had like it. Harry Potter had liked kissing Severus Snape. I just about managed to contain myself. Girding my loins or some other such nonsense I glared at the irritating twit.

"Severus, would it kill you to call me Harry?" he smiled at me again. "I really would like it."

"Mr. Potter, the only thing that could induce me to refer to you by the hideous title your parents consider a name…" I paused for a moment, enjoying the crestfallen look on his face "Is if you accompany me to a meal tomorrow night."

His smile almost blinded me, if my heart hadn't already started to melt I am sure that it quite possibly would have cracked with the beauty of that smile. His green eyes flashed at me and he slowly traced his hand across my thigh, causing me to both turn inexplicably hard and confusingly warm and soft. I, of course, did not show any of this to the infuriating, presumptuous dolt. After all, I am merely attempting to get to the bottom of who my admirer is.


	13. The Day After the Day After the Night Before (Possible a Tuesday?)

What was I thinking? I have no idea where to take Potter. Do we go for an Indian? Chinese? Italian? What does the infuriating child like? My mind was racing as I tried to plan some sort of evening filled with joyous festivities and other such rot. I barely allowed my mind to rest on what activities I would rather be participating in with the nincompoop.

But he is a Gryffindor, probably takes the stupidity as far as his food. So Indian it is. He'll probably order vindaloo.

But where? Muggle or magical? He took me to a muggle place, is that where he prefers to be? He has always protested against his fame, but surely that’s just a front. It would be if he was his father, but then he isn't his father is he. Not really. Muggle it is then.

I faffed around for most of the day, picking clothes and returning them, digging though trunks I had locked away for years, eventually I was ready and I hoped I looked as good as I felt. I had dressed in black leather trousers, a purple silk shirt as the boy seemed to like me in colours and a black leather jacket completed the look. My hair was clean and pulled back with a leather thong and I made my way to the entrance hall to meet the moron.

As I left the stairs leading to the dungeon I froze. He was breathtaking. He had obviously spent more time on his appearance then the norm as he had tamed his wild hair, the black offset by green beads that were braided randomly into his locks, his hair hung loose and cascaded down his back. He was wearing a green silk poets shirt, and like myself was dressed in black leather, but where mine flattered, his clung and emphasised. I truly believed I would die that night from the heavenly view.

Then his eyes caught mine and I gasped in shock. He had lined his eyes with a hint of black, his glasses were missing and all that I could see was the flashing, awe-inspiring green of his eyes. And I knew I could never let him go.

\--

He ordered Vindaloo.

We had gone to a small Indian restaurant I had heard recommended by several muggle-born students. The conversation, once again, was surprisingly intelligent, but I'm sure you don’t want to know about the boring parts. The meal was lovely and I had a chicken tikka masala that Harry recommended. When I thanked him and called him 'Harry' I was sure someone had overdone a lumos spell he smiled so brightly. He spent the rest of the night giving me small touches, his knees touching mine.

When we left the restaurant we walked down the Embankment, watching the boats on the River Thames. He had, almost absently, placed his arm though mine and as we walked I listened to his excited chatter, watched his lips as they moved, tasting each word he uttered in his soft voice. With a low growl I swung him around until his back was pushed against a wall, I leaned into him so I could feel the delicious hardness of his body pressed against mine, his breath warm and shaken against my neck and I lowered my face to his.

As our lips met I could feel the last vestiges of my icy heart melt under the searing kiss. Our tongues caressed and stroked each other, my hands circled his body and cupped his arse. His hands, well I won't tell you wear his hands were, but let me assure you, I will be having many a fond moment remembering the utter bliss of his light touches stroking me through my trousers.

As we explored each other all I could think was _more_ and my normally articulate mind was struggling to find a way to invite him back to my quarters. Thankfully I had fallen for an impetuous Gryffindor.

"Severus." He moaned into my ear, making my blood boil as I imagined him screaming my name in orgasm.

"Mmmm?" I questioned him intelligently.

"This better be ending in your bedroom or else I think I may have to kill you."


	14. Heaven, Hell and somewhere in between

Some how we managed to make it as far as my rooms, I have no idea how, and if Harry does I doubt he will share. Our clothes were eagerly discarded as I led him to my bed. My. Bed. Sounds amazing doesn’t it, Harry Potter in Severus Snape's bed. Bliss.

His hands trailed a blazing path across my skin, his long, lean figure wrapped around mine as if it had belonged there all along. Our movements were fluid and as we joined together I could honestly say I have never so loved, so content with the world.

\--

That morning I awoke in the wonderful after glow of earth shattering sex. I had my arms full of the most amazing person on the planet, his nubile form fitting perfectly against mine, his weight a comfort as my mind raced and I shivered as a realisation dawned upon me.

I loved him with the passion of a thousand fiery suns.

What the fuck was I going to do?


	15. Hell hath no fury like a Potter Scorned

I reacted in typical Snape fashion. First I sneered, then I glared, then, when he wasn’t getting the drift I threw him bodily from my rooms. The fact that he was naked didn’t feature much in my mind. I ignored his protests and questions and headed back to bed

Eventually I made my way up to the Great Hall where I saw a sight that stabbed me deep in my stomach. Harry and Malfoy. Oh, they weren't doing anything wrong. Not unless sitting so close they could feel each others body heat and Malfoy tenderly holding him while he wept on his shoulder counted as innocent. 

Does that albino not realise he is touching my property? I snarled at the pair, disgusted with the quickness of Potters betrayal, pleased I had cut the dross from my life before it had the chance to hurt me.

"Potter" I growled. The bint had the cheek to ignore me. I stalked over and grabbed his arm, removing the taint of Malfoy from my property. "Don’t ignore me, Potter." I began again.

"What do you want Snape?" His voice lashed out at me, cold, icy. Everything Harry's voice should never be.

"You."

"You had me, you threw me out." His lovely green eyes narrowed for a moment "I don’t do second chances Snape."

I stood frozen as he walked away, I had assumed he would keep pursuing me, that he would keep pushing.

What would I do now?


	16. The Haunting of Severus Snape

That was the day it all fell apart I guess. The day I threw him out of my rooms, out of my bed. That night I saw him with Malfoy. I had walked up to the entrance hall and had drawn into the shadows as I saw them together, Harry in those delicious trousers that moulded to fit his body, a cotton t-shirt that hugged his chest, once again he was wearing black eyeliner and I could see just a hint of emerald caressing his eyelids. My fingers itched to unwrap the delectable sight he was presenting me. He saw me lurking, I'm sure of it, he raised an eyebrow, smirked and turned to Malfoy.

He will be mine again.

From that moment on he haunted me, green and black forever cursed to remind me of his presence. I would catch a glimpse of him from the corner of my eye, a whiff of his own, personal scent would caress my senses, his dulcet tones raising my spirits.

And yet, always Malfoy.

So, I did what I did best. I removed 3000 points form Gryffindor, assigned random detentions and generally made the Gryffindors rue the day The-Boy-Who-Lived joined their House.

It had the desired affect.

He appeared in my office like an avenging angel, a vision in black and emerald. I manoeuvred myself into position, making him back into a wall. Using my height to loom over him, the tangible heat from his body enough to make me swoon.

"If you wanted my attention this much you only needed to apologise." he whispered sensually in my ear, causing shivers to run down my spine.

"I'm Sorry?" I snapped at him, my mind having wandered.

"That's okay, just don’t do it again." he whispered again, his tongue flicking out and touching my ear.

"I-" I began, but stopped as he moved out from under me, rubbing his body across mine as he headed towards the door. I could have sworn the twit stroked me there as he went.

"Tonight, 8pm." he tossed over his shoulder as he left.

I was frozen to the spot, my blood rushing in a way only he could cause.

What just happened?


	17. All's Fair in Love and War

At 8pm sharp he appeared at my door, a black velvet robe hiding his delectable body from view and a bottle of wine clutched in his hands.

"What do you want?" I snarled, he just brushed past me, once again reminding my nether regions of that one, perfect night.

He placed the bottle on the table and unclasped his robe, allowing it to fall into a soft puddle at his feet, revealing his naked figure.

"I thought we could restart. As I remember it everything was going well until you woke."

I nodded slowly, my mouth dry and my brain functions weren't exactly working, all I could think was 'he's giving me another chance! I get to do it again!'

He walked towards me, his hips sashaying gently, he circled his arms around my neck and his soft lips met mine in an explosion of tactile sensuality. As the passion flowed through my veins I swept him into my arms and led him into the bedroom.

\--

This time when I woke with my hands full of Potter I pulled him in closer. Seeing him awake I reached for a kiss and then laid back, for once willingly allowing someone else to lead us to an orgasmic exploration of each other.

Eventually we had to remove ourselves from the bedroom. Settling down in front of the fire he ordered breakfast from that over excited cretin he called a house-elf.

And then his eyes rested on mine.

"Severus" he almost hissed at me. He had draped himself across the sofa, much in the same manner as he had countless times before. However this time his body aroused in me passion rather then annoyance. His head thrown back revealed a neck covered in my bites, his body marked with my lips and hands and I took pleasure in the obvious ownership of his body.

Well I am a Slytherin. I do not share.

He was charmingly dishevelled and I believe I could get used to him decorating my chambers in such a way.

"Yes." I raised an eyebrow at the impossible young man.

"Have you found the other use for your chair?" it was asked so lazily, so innocently, that it took a moment for it to sink in.

"You sent the gifts?" I gasped. I had become certain that it hadn't been Harry.

"No. I saw you receiving gifts and snuck my own in amongst them. I sent you the parseltongue potions book as a way to get to know you better and then, when I saw you having back trouble I sent you the chair." He looked so at ease with the situation, ignoring the fact the Gryffindor had rocked my world. Didn't he realise his actions were so Slytherin that most of the House wouldn’t have thought of it?

"Then do you know who sent the others?" I asked, slytherin cunning forgotten in my curiosity.

"Of course I know Severus." He answered lazily.

I waited

"Well are you going to tell me?" I practically begged.

"No." He stretched like a cat, moving to curl into my lap, his form still slick and naked from our frantic coupling. He wriggled slightly, bringing my attention to the fact that I had a lapful of a young, gorgeous man who wanted me.

Impudent brat.


	18. The Investigation Begins

I pondered his words for several hours as he laid in my arms. He knew who had begun to court me, yet he had not hesitated to manipulate the situation to his own ends. I was strangely proud of the boy, yet amazed that someone with such obvious Slytherin cunning had survived for so long in the Lion House. Perhaps   
I shouldn't have been.

But who would have begun to court me? At first my thoughts rested on Draco Malfoy, but I quickly dismissed him from my mind. The boy was a poor slytherin, much more likely to demand then seduce, as he had tried in the past. I mentally shuddered at the memory of his seventh year. A scantily clad Malfoy attempting to throw himself into my arms still had the power to make me nauseous

So who else?

I gathered together all of the gifts apart from the ones from Harry and began to find a link between them.

A Unicorns Horn  
Basilisk Eyes  
Roses  
A Two-Way Journal  
A Packet of Tea

There seemed to be no reasoning behind the gifts. No logical thought or connection. My only conclusion was that they were being sent from someone as insane as Albus.

\--

Eventually he awoke, turning to snuggle into my neck he breathed deeply before asking me sleepily "have you figured out who it is yet?"

"Who whom is?" I asked archly.

"Your secret admirer. You won’t ever figure it out."

"How do you know?" I asked him getting a touch peeved, after all I was normally quite good at figuring mysteries out.

"Because they had no romantic interest in you at all."

This was too much, even from the naked man laying in my beds.

"What do you mean." I snapped frostily.

"She -"

"It was a woman?" I interrupted in shock "everyone knows I prefer men."

"That’s kind of the point, she knew you would have no interest in her, her intent was not romance you herself but to bring the possibility to the attention of another."

"Who?" I asked bewildered.

"Severus…" he told me in a weary voice "I have had a thing for you since I was 18."

"You have? Then why didn’t you say anything?" I asked thrown, I had thought his interest was a recent thing.

"Oh yes." he chortled "I can see that conversation."

"Professor Snape? _Potter, what inane comment have you contrived to further waste my time with you, is invading my home and privacy not enough for you, but now your fame has now finally calmed down after the long awaited defeat of the Dark Lord you have condescended to demand attention from me?_ Actually I just wanted to tell you that I think your, well, not nice, but, well, interesting. _Potter that is the worse prank that I have come across in my twenty years in teaching._ It’s not a prank Sir, I really do admire you. _One Hundred points from Gryffindor and detention for a month!_ Yeah, I can see that going really well" He concluded.

I smothered a snigger, his portrayal of the conversation was pretty accurate to my mind as well.

My mind now resting on the benevolent friend of Potters, one who surely must have a twisted mind and I knew that I would forever be in their debt.


	19. An Admirer Revealed

I now had an idea of who it would be, despite Harry's fame in the wizarding world he only had a small circle for friends, of them only three females.

I immediately discounted Ginevra Weasley, the chit was still sore about his refusal to marry her and have a "bit" on the side. She had been expecting him to propose to her since his first year at Hogwarts and had not looked upon his sexuality with any acceptance. She most certainly would not want him to be settled with another man.

The second option was the redoubtable Miss Hermione Granger. Miss Granger, although more then capable of thinking of such a scheme, I doubt she would use any underhand tactics, she most likely would have advised Harry to just approach me.

The last, and I hesitate to include this anomaly in any list, is Luna Lovegood. The girl was certainly crazy enough to send the strange collection of gifts. But why would she bother, she always gave the impression that she expected life to work out as it meant, that she would not interfere with it…

This mystery was getting more preposterous as time passed.

\--

In the end I resorted to begging at Harrys feet. I know the Gryffindor loved it. I had racked my brains trying to come up with the sender but could not narrow the field down or add any new contenders.

Eventually he told me, after considerable negotiations and more sexual favours then even I, a seasoned Slytherin and Head of House could shake a stick at.

Sometimes that boy scares me.

"Luna."

"Luna sent me those gifts?" I asked in shock. I had not thought the strange girl had the financial backing to be able to send me the gifts.

"Well she sent you the tea and the flowers I have no idea who sent you the others, I had thought it was Luna, but I guess not. Well, she denies it at least."

"You are seriously telling me that after decades of no attention I have had not fewer then three admirers of one form or another in the space of a month?" I asked, for once completely gobsmacked.


	20. The Truth is Revealed

I watch him as he falls asleep in my arms, his heart now finally belonging to me and I know I will never feel any guilt for what I have done. True, I have manipulated him into having feelings for me, but unlike my rival I will never leave him to his fate, I will protect him with my own life, as he has done many times for me.

Perhaps I should explain more.

My name is Harry Potter, I am, as I am sure you know, The-Boy-Who-Lived, The-Man-Who-Defeated-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (one of my favourite titles I must admit I enjoy watching officials getting tongue tied) and the lover of Severus Snape.

Severus was, at one point, my most hated teacher, my hate began to end when I finally opened my eyes to the world around me. While the rest of the world was constantly changing, he remained steadfast. While those I trusted betrayed and manipulated he remained his hateful self. And I grew to love him for it.

It didn’t hit me until I overheard Malfoy talking to one of his minions (I know, I was surprised by his actions in the war as well, he saved many lives before he stopped spying), explaining how he was going to finally get revenge on the elder Slytherin turning him down in his youth. He detailed his plans for seducing the Potions Master and then how he was going to publicly humiliate him.

I guess that while leopards may change their spots, their colours will always stay the same.

So I devised The Plan (and yes it did deserve the capitals), of how I would steal Severus from under his nose.

Gods it was wonderful, seeing Malfoys look of confusion as the uptight man softened under some TLC. I could see that Malfoy was no longer interested once the real Severus began to shine, the snob could not see the diamond hiding beneath the sour exterior.

So I began to warm him up, enticing him to cast his net further by stroking his already inflated ego. I eventually got him to start dating Justin Finch-Fetchly, the added bonus being that I was able to use him to fuel Severus' jealousy.

There wasn’t really anything going on between us, well maybe a kiss or two.

And now I have what I wanted, my own black knight, his fragile ego (yes Severus does have a fragile ego, why else would he armour himself with a disguise like that?) stroked by the idea of having another admirer. An admirer whose name shall remain a secret even if I have to bribe Malfoy with the knowledge of what he screams when he climaxes being spread to all of his ex-death eater friends (and no, I will not tell you where I got that information from).

And Luna? Well, who would want to confront Luna?

Where was I? oh yes. Once I managed to give him the impression I was interested it was just a matter of time, letting him see the real me rather then the façade both he and I had allowed to cover me.

And now he is mine, and if you will excuse me, I believe Severus still owes me from our negotiations yesterday.


End file.
